


Love Bites - Weekly NSFW Challenge Prompts

by QuestionableGeek (DemonicGeek)



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Angst, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Bite marks, Biting, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), M/M, NSFW Ficlets, Nonbinary/Nonbinary, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Stand Alone Chapters, Weekly Challenge, more pine than a forest, nonbinary author, smut written by ace author
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-27 09:28:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30120678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DemonicGeek/pseuds/QuestionableGeek
Summary: This is a place for me to add weekly prompts for GOWC Write-It! Wednesdays. I'll be sure I tag each individual chapter with any appropriate tags as it will vary depending on how my brain accepts the prompt for that week. There may be two chapters for certain prompts, but generally it'll just be once a week (assuming I can get my brain to write for 20-40 minutes a week!)All should be ficlet length.First prompt: Bites
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18
Collections: GOWC Write-It! Wednesdays





	Love Bites - Weekly NSFW Challenge Prompts

CW: Angst, Pining, Bite marks, lovingly left marks, mentions of sex, did I mention fucking pining?

Stolen moments, stolen time. Deep down, Crowley thought that was certainly all his time with Aziraphale had ever been. A series of moments taken from a universe that certainly hadn’t wanted them to be together.

He thought of Aziraphale’s warm hands tracing his body last night and let his hands followed the same path with a sigh and dared to wonder if one day it could be more. Aziraphale had never given any indication, not since that time in Rome, that he wanted more than these momentary encounters that were very carefully  _ not discussed _ during their regular meetings.

Crowley’s hand lingered at the small bruised bite on his shoulder. The first time Aziraphale had left a mark on him he’d been aghast and offered to miracle it away. The demon had shooed him away, told him not to worry about it then miracled the mark to last longer.

A bit of demonic power imbued into the small bite, laced with the memory of Aziraphale spilling into him as he clung to him the night before. Never quite saying Crowley’s name, that would be too much. Instead, his thoughts and wants were left in this small mark on Crowley’s shoulder. It would last for weeks now. He’d see Aziraphale again before then of course, at the Globe perhaps. Somewhere where their clothes carefully covered any marks left by the other.

It would be more than weeks before Aziraphale left another mark on his body, and Crowley wanted this one to last as long as it could. To pretend that perhaps it was because he was truly wanted.

He threw himself back on his bed and considered his catalog of marks. The small bruises where Aziraphale’s fingers had pressed into his skin, the red spots along his collar bone where Aziraphale’s lips had pulled a pitiful noise from his lips, and that one memorable occasion where the tree trunk had bitten into his back.

His favorite however was the small bite. Not just the current one on his shoulder, but the ones Aziraphale seemed to enjoy lavishing on his thighs, his chest, or the gentle nip at his ear. Usually, the angel knew his own strength and there wasn’t a mark left, but that made the ones he did leave more precious. If only Crowley had a way to truly memorialize them.

A thought occurred to Crowley and he sat up, quickly pulling the paper and pencil from the bedside table. Leonardo had worked with him on his sketch work, and he thought perhaps now he could do this image justice.

He drew the sharp lines of his own body before continuing to how he remembered Aziraphale last night. Soft, warm, and always so strong. His wings flaring behind them as he bit down on Crowley’s shoulder. That part didn’t happen on the mortal plane of course, but Crowley would like to imagine that it happened none-the-less.

The sun was setting by the time he added the small bite marks to match those on his own body and stared down at the paper.

Every fiber in him screamed at him that this was dangerous. Their friendship and whatever this extra bit they’d had for centuries were risky enough without leaving written evidence anywhere.

He folded the sketch carefully and slid it into an envelope then scrawled Aziraphale’s name on the front. On the back, he only wrote the simple message “with love” and a black feather. No name, Aziraphale would know who sent it. He set it on the bedside table and wondered if he’d have the nerve to have it delivered to the angel in the morning.


End file.
